The following Monday, I went to the money exchanger to have my French money changed into German Marks. I went to the school and spent four hours talking with my French Professor.
“Frank,” he said, “It may be a little sticky for you going to Germany at this time.”
“Why? I’m just a student. Why would anyone care about me?”
“The Nazi party has taken over Germany. The country is changing rapidly. I don’t think for the better for some people.”
“Why should I care? I’m not political, why would they bother me?”
“I just want to warn you, you may not be received well there.”
I thanked the professor for his concern. I told him goodbye, and thanked him for all he had done for me. “I’ll be fine,” I told him and went on my way.
Uncle Bob had sent me way more money than I would ever need; God bless him. I wrote him and the folks of my decision to go to Germany. They could write me, in care of general delivery Munich, Germany. The man at the exchange told me to hide most of my Marks as the German Government didn’t like foreigners bringing a lot of money into the country. That seemed strange to me. Anyway, I hid my money in the lining of my overcoat, trunk liner and my suit coat.
The following day, I was on a train bound for Munich, Germany. I was missing Lilly and her mother so much; just thinking of them brought tears to my eyes. I sure hoped they would like America. I think I remember the letter Lilly let me read had a return address of an automobile dealership in California. His name was on the heading as the owner.
From now on, I would be speaking German, at least the best I could. Bear that in mind as you read my story. An older German man sat next to me and asked, “Are you an American?”
I laughed and said, “How can you tell?”
“Your clothing gives you away. Are you a tourist? You look awfully young to be one.”
“No, sir, I am a student. I plan to study architecture at Munich University.”
“Son,” he said, “I’m afraid you have picked a bad time to come to Germany.”
Puzzled, I asked why he would say that. He replied, “Germany is in a really bad turmoil at this time. The politics of the dictator who has the power over the people has made life in Germany impossible for people like me.” I still I didn’t know what he was referring to. The look on my face must have given me away.
He shook his head and continued, “This man, Adolf Hitler, has made life a living hell for me and my people. I am a Jew and he has sworn to drive us all out of Germany, I have had enough. I’m on the way back to sell my factory, get my family and leave Germany.”
This man seemed so positive of the situation, I had too ask, “What does he have against Jews, you look the same to me as everyone else? In my city in the United States we have many families of Jews.”
“We really haven’t the slightest idea. He makes us wear the Star of David on our clothes to identify us as Jews.” This man looked as harmless as a man could look. He was well dressed. He was wearing a well-tailored grey pinstriped suit, a black vest and a well-groomed grey beard. He wore horn rimmed glasses. He had a pleasant smile and laughing eyes. All together, a very distinguished looking gentleman. He acted like a very nice gentleman. In the next several hours, we got to know each other a little.
Now the train was slowing down. The man told me, “We’re about to enter Germany. We will change engines here. An all German crew will take over.” When we stopped, a uniformed man entered our car and said all foreigners must get off and report to the immigration office. My traveling companion said, “That’s you, my boy.”
There were twenty people standing with me on the station platform. A little old lady was the first to go in the office, I was the last to go in. All the other people could get back on the train as they came out of the station. In the office, a very stern looking black uniformed individual with a skull emblem on his billed cap gave me a hard look. He sat back in the chair with his hands folded and said very loud, “Papers.” I handed him my passport. He started thumbing thru the book. He asked “Are you a student?”
“Yes sir! I’m studying architecture. I plan to go to the University in Munich.”
“How much money did you bring to Germany?” Now he had his elbows on the desk, hands folded and staring into my eyes. “Let me see all your money,” he insisted. I took out my billfold and handed him all the Marks I had in it. He counted the money then said, “One thousand Marks, not much to go to school on.”
“My people will send me more as I need it; I plan to get a job in Munich.” That seemed to satisfy him. He handed back my money and passport, turned in his chair and said, “Go.” He also motioned with his hand. I hurried back to my seat in the train car. Soon the train started to move. I sat silently watching the countryside pass by. It was a very sun shiny, cloudless pleasant day.
Soon, my elderly traveling companion spoke, “Now, my boy, you have got a glimpse of the new Germany.”
I asked, “Who was he? Why do they need soldiers in that job?”
“He’s with the SS, they use men like him because they will be tough.”
I changed the subject. “You said you were going to sell your factory. What do you make?”
“Buttons,” he said. “All kinds of buttons, metal, bone - like the ones on your shirt and coat. We make all the buttons the Army, SA and SS wear on their uniforms.”
“You have to sell your factory?” I asked.
“No, I don’t have to, but I think it’s wise that I do.”
“Do you have a buyer?”
“Yes, I’m selling to my old sergeant I had in the Army.”
“You were in the German Army?” That surprised me for him to be a veteran of the first war.
“Yes, I was in six long years, from 1913 to 1918. I was an officer in the artillery on the Western Front.”
I just couldn’t understand what he was telling me about the conditions in Germany. As we talked, I surmised he loved the Fatherland. This thing he told about Jews didn’t make any sense to me.
As the train pulled into the station at Munich, darkness was falling. I asked my friend if he knew where I could get a hotel. “The Dressen Hotel is two blocks east of the station.” I thanked him for being such a good traveling companion and hoped his plans would work out to his satisfaction. He shook my hand and said he would pray for me to have a healthy and safe time while I was here in Germany. He told me his name was Max Steiner. We parted company on the platform.
I went into the station to check on my trunk. I was told it would be in the baggage room until I came for it. I carried my suitcase and proceeded to the hotel. There I saw the room clerk and rented a room. He asked many questions about America. He said there hadn’t seen many Americans for some time. He gave me a key. I asked if the dining room was open. He told me it would be serving until nine p.m. I took the elevator to the third floor to my room. I washed my face and hands and returned to the dining room for supper.
In it I found a very nice room with many tables covered with the most beautiful white laced table cloths, I sat at a table. There were twenty or so people having dinner. A young man came and gave me a menu and a glass of water. In a few minutes he returned and I ordered my dinner. I sat back to observe the room and the people. There were six uniformed men and their ladies eating and laughing. All the rest were very well dressed men and women civilians, busy talking and eating.
The desk clerk came thru the big double doors with a very attractive middle-aged lady and pointed me out to her. She immediately approached my table, I stood to welcome her. She asked, “Are you an American?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
She asked, “May I sit and talk with you?” She spoke perfect English.
“I would be happy to talk to anyone at this time,” I said laughingly. “I hate eating alone.”
She sat down and asked if I had ordered my dinner. “Yes ma’am, I ordered the roast beef.”
“You will enjoy that, we have the best chef in Germany, he makes the most delicious roast beef you will ever taste.” Then she started telling about the Americans she had met before. “I have a delightful American friend you will simply have to meet. She is a real treasure and she is my best friend. She lives here in Munich. Would you like to meet her?”
“Yes ma’am, it would be a pleasure to meet someone from home.”
“She has had a bad time lately. She has just divorced her husband and needs cheering up. Would you help me do that?”
“Yes ma’am, I’ll try to help her if I can.”
“Let me introduce myself. My name is Frau Dressen. My husband and I own this hotel. Have you come to Munich as a visitor or a student?”
I told her I was pleased to meet her and I would very much like to meet her friend. I had come to Germany to study architecture at the University. She said that Germany had the finest schools in the world. She asked the waiter to bring two glasses of white wine. As I ate my meal, she started telling me about Munich; Oktoberfest was in full swing. “We have many exciting things to do during this time of year.” I told her I had to find a room to rent as I couldn’t afford to stay in her fine hotel. “I’ll have a bell boy find a room for you, there’s many to be had in Munich.”
I finished my meal and thanked her for her kindness. She walked me to the elevator, wished me good night and said she would look forward to seeing me in the morning. “Call my room when you are ready to find a permanent room.”
In my room, I undressed and took a hot bath. This was the finest hotel I had ever been in. It had everything, the best bed I had ever slept in. The radio that played nothing but sleepy time music. I turned in and had the best night’s sleep I had since leaving France. I dreamed I was back in Paris with Lilly and her mother. When I woke up it all seemed so real, I had to look to make sure I wasn’t in Paris. I sure missed Lilly and her mother; I hoped they could find happiness in America.
I dressed and hurried down to the dining room to have breakfast. The dining room was filled with uniformed officers and their ladies. These were handsome and very good looking men and women. They impressed me with their well tailored uniforms and the ladies in their beautiful dresses. There were children in various age groups scattered throughout the room. I found an empty table next to the back wall. Very soon, a white coated young man came and left me a menu; I ordered eggs, sausage and coffee.
After eating, I went to the front desk and asked for Frau Dressen’s telephone number. Reluctantly, the desk clerk gave me her number. I called to tell her I was in the lobby. She came down to meet me in the next few minutes. “Have you had breakfast?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. I need to find a room as soon as I can.”
She took my arm, led me to the bellhop’s station and introduced me to a young boy whose name was Franz. He looked the part of a bellboy with a red bell cap, red coat, blue pants and a friendly smile; he looked to be an older teenager. Mrs. Dressen asked him if he knew where I could find a room in this neighborhood. He said he did and the lady told him to take me there. Before we left, she asked me to come back to the hotel at seven p.m. to meet her American friend. I promised I would. She called after us that I would be having dinner with her and her friend.
As we walked down the street, we encountered many uniformed soldiers. I asked Franz why so many were in town. He said Oktoberfest was a big celebration for the German people and most soldiers got leave to come to town. Most of the soldiers had a pretty girl with them. They all seemed to be having a good time as they were laughing and acting foolish as most young people do when they’re out on a date. We turned south for several blocks, and turned down a narrow street with small shops on each side. The sidewalks where curiously empty of people, I asked Franz why this was.
He almost whispered, “This is a Jewish section of town. I hope,” he said, “You don’t object living with Jews?”
“Why should I?”
“Some people here don’t care for them. There’s a move on in this country to rid Germany of the Jews, I myself like them; I have many friends who are Jews. In fact, I have some of their blood in me. My grandfather was Jewish.”
I told him I had heard of this movement and I didn’t understand it at all. He stopped and said that the bakery shop ahead was where there was a room for rent. He said goodbye, turned and hurried back up the street the way we had come.
I walked on and entered the bakery shop. A very attractive young lady behind the counter asked if she could help me. “I understand I might find a room for rent here, I need a place to hang my hat,” I said with a big smile.
She frowned at me and obviously didn’t care for my manners. She said in a very sober voice, “I’ll call my grandfather, he owns this building.” I want to tell you the smell of fresh baking bread was wonderful. I would like living here, I said to myself.
An elderly gentleman came back following the girl. A very pleasant looking man with a full gray beard and twinkling eyes, he reminded me of Santa Claws. He said very curtly, “Can I help you young man?”
“Yes, sir, I’m looking for a room to rent. I understand you have one.”
“Yes we do, just above this store, come I will show you.” We went outside and up the stairs beside the building, thru a door at the top. It opened into a hallway with four doors; we entered the first one on the right hand side. It took us into a one room flat; there was a bed, a night stand, a chest of draws and a bureau. There was also a table with two wooden chairs, a rocker and a counter with a hot plate. It was a furnished flat with bedding, towels, a few miscellaneous cooking utensils and a few dishes. The bathroom was a community one at the end of the hall.
The old man said he would furnish a pitcher and pan for water. For the price, I could not afford not to rent the room. It had two windows, one looked down on the stairs, and the other overlooked the street below.
We returned to the shop and I paid a month’s rent. He introduced himself. His name was Karl Golden, his Granddaughter was Jennifer Golden. They both became much warmer toward me and made me feel welcome. I told them I had a trunk at the railroad station I had to go get. He loaned me a cart to carry it back to my room. I took the cart and hurried to the station and retrieved my trunk.
Back at the bakery, Herr Golden had a middle aged man help me carry the trunk to my room. He struck up a conversation right away. He asked, “Do you know you’re in a Jewish neighborhood?”
“Yes, is there any reason I should not be here?”
“Things are getting tough for Jews in Munich. Did you notice all Jews wear the Star of David on their clothes?”
“Yes I saw that. What’s the reason?”
He didn’t reply to my question, but he did continue saying, “My advice to you is be careful where you go and who you go with.” That seemed a strange thing to say. He went on saying, “This is my last day to work at the Golden bakery, I’ve been told to quit or else. You see I’m an Aryan and a new law has passed that I can’t work for a Jew anymore.”
“Whoa,” I said, “That’s one hell of a bad law.”
He agreed with me and said, “I’ve worked for Herr Golden every since I came home from the army. He’s treated me like a son.” With tears in his eyes he said, “I love that old man and his family, but there’s nothing I can do.” He started to leave and I asked his name. “Alfred Ruche.”
I checked my watch and it said it was noon. My stomach agreed. I went down to the bakery shop and inquired of Jennifer where I could get a meal. She came from behind the counter, stepped outside and pointed to a restaurant on the next corner. This was a very attractive young girl, I asked her age. “I’m eighteen and will be nineteen next month. How old are you?” she asked.
“I just turned twenty,” I said with a smile.
“You’re not a German. Who are you and why have you come to Munich?” She seemed concerned.
“I’m an American and I have come to study architecture in the Munich University,” I said proudly.
Without hesitation she said, “You have come to Germany at a bad time.”
I told her I had heard that before. I thanked her and walked down to the restaurant. At the restaurant, a large word in white was painted on the glass window. “JUDE” it read. I entered and sat at a table near the door. There were ten people eating and talking. A comely middle aged woman came and took my order of a brunswager sandwich, a kosher pickle and a glass of beer. All the people there had the Star of David on their clothes. After finishing my meal, I wished everyone there a good day. None of the people even looked up at me.
When I got back to the bakery, I went in and talked to Jennifer. I told her the people at the restaurant were very cool to me. She whispered, “They probably thought you were an SS spy.”
“Holy Cow,” I said. “Could that be true?”
“Yes, we have spies here all the time. You haven’t told me your name.”
“Frank,” I said. “I must go up and take a nap. I have a dinner date at seven at the Dressen Hotel.”
“With a young lady, I bet.” Jennifer smiled and asked, “Is she pretty?”
“No, not with a girl, with Frau Dressen and an American lady by the name of Hellene Hanfstaengl. Frau Dressen said I would like this woman Hellene.”
“Oh my!” she said, “You’re moving in fast company. The Dressens and Hanfastaengls are big friends of the German Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler.” That was the first time I had heard that. It scared the dickens out of me. Jennifer continued, “You must be very careful what you say to those people. You might get in serious trouble if you say anything against the Nazis. Be careful, Frank, what you say tonight.”
I thanked her and told her, “I will be careful just for you.”
“Be serious, I mean what I say.” She had a customer so we talked no more and I went on up to my room to take a nap.